Love Can Make Its Own Music
by sbrianson
Summary: Tired of feeling shunned by the world because of their relationship, Remus comforts a distraught Sirius over the unfairness of their own community. Slash.


"Love Can Make Its Own Music"

Pairing: Remus Lupin / Sirius Black

Rating: "M" for language and depictions of homosexuality

DISCLAIMER: This story is fictional – that's F-I-C-T-I-O-N. It never happened, and is not real. It is the product of my own imagination. It contains descriptions of male slash (that's male/male homosexual relations). If you do not like this type of content, or if you find homosexuality or its practice offensive, please click the "Back" button or close your Internet browser NOW, and do not read any further. All characters and copyrights are owned by J.K Rowling and Warner Brothers™ (AOL Time Warner), but this story is owned by me and is all my own work.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Temple Meads" refers to Bristol Temple Meads railway station in Bristol – about forty minutes away from Cardiff by rail and known to most Cardinians simply as Temple Meads or Bristol TM.

* * *

Tired and moody from the long journey back to Cardiff as they were, neither Remus Lupin nor Sirius Black could deny that it had been a _fabulous_ wedding. Alice had looked absolutely beautiful and Frank had never appeared more handsome. But Remus could not help noticing that his partner had become steadily grumpier on the train back from Kent since they had caught the last connection train at Temple Meads. Although Sirius had blamed a plump, conservative-looking woman giving them a stern, disapproving look as they held hands walking to the platform (and who could blame them? After all, not only was Sirius Black the most desirable man on the planet to Remus, but unlike Remus who did have some degree of muggle background in his family tree, Sirius came from one of the purest bloodlines in the wizarding community. Therefore, how one is supposed to behave in a train station was _not_ one of his stronger points, as platform nine and three quarters was not _quite_ the same thing). Letting the subject drop for the time being, the werewolf had suspicions that that wasn't the real reason for Sirius's bad mood. After all, Remus was the one who tended to get upset at such behaviour, and Sirius was the one who would give the perpetrator a piece of his mind, not the other way around. 

Sirius didn't so much as sigh, but huffed and puffed as they finally arrived at their front door – Roath was such a long walk from Cardiff Central Station at one in the morning – and shoved his key into the lock so hard that the door physically shook and nearly burst open. After traipsing up three flights of stairs the couple reached their small bed-sit. Sirius's grumbling and moaning under his breath was now escalating and Remus could start picking out individual words.

"…fucking…Ninian Road…why…bitch…dancing…suit…hotel…"

"Sirius," the mousy-haired man snapped, "for Merlin's sake, are you going to tell me what the fuck is wrong, or do I have to beat it out of you, because you've been like this since Reading and, quite frankly, I'm bloody sick of it!"

Sirius scowled at his boyfriend and looked sullenly away from him.

"Fine. Don't tell me, then." Remus said. "Sit there and sulk. But don't bother coming to bed with me if you do!" He sighed. "Do you want a bit of supper?" Sirius growled in the negative, before giving a shuddering sigh.

"It's just that… what have we got, eh, Remus?"

"Well, Merlin's beard! It talks! What do you mean, 'what have we got'?" Remus retorted.

"Well, we were just at a posh wedding. Dolled up to the nines, sipping champagne, eating salmon, the works. But what does that matter? Not with Mrs Longbottom there. You saw the looks that the old crone kept giving us – as if coming to see Frank and Alice be married was not for the likes of _us_, thank you very much! Not for the poor old paupers in Cardiff. And she positively sneered when she heard that we weren't staying over in that expensive hotel…"

"Sorry, Sirius, but you _know_ we couldn't afford it."

"Yeah…" the raven-haired man trailed off. "I know. Hiring a nice suit or staying in a nice hotel. What a choice! It's not _our_ fault that we have to do so much bloody work for the order that it's nearly impossible for either of us to actually hold down a job! So fucking skint that we can barely afford the cheapest train tickets to get to a wedding 'cause we sure as Hell can't afford to get a car and go the _normal_ muggle way like the Order wanted! I can't believe that I used to be the heir to a massive fortune, and yet I have to live on fucking Ninian Road!"

"Well, money isn't everything, you know?"

"No. It's not. But it helps…" Sirius said sulkily.

"And anyway, I thought that Mrs Longbottom was sneering at us for a slightly different reason. From what I hear, she often takes to sneering at… people like us."

"That too. You know, Reem, I'm bloody tired of it," Sirius suddenly spat out. "All the time, people judging me. _Condemning_ me. Just because my girlfriend happens to be another _man_. Because I may want to kiss him, or hold his hand, or even be seen in the same public space as him!" Remus walked up to his distressed boyfriend and drew him into a soothing, protective hug.

"Shh…" he cooed. "Don't let's get started into this now…"

"No, Remus!" Sirius shouted. "I'm fucking exhausted! I'm so tired of living in a world where people hate and despise me, even fear me. Not for anything that I've said or done or anything, but because of whom I choose to take to bed!" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Because of whom I fall in love with!"

Sirius's eyes began to dampen slightly as he clung onto his lover and love as Remus squeezed him, holding him tight, comforting him. It was true, though. He'd lost count of all the attacks, the name-calling, the sharp words, the spitting, the funny looks… Living in a city helped. Such a mixture of different people and cultures, helping to dilute the hate and discrimination thrown at them so often. But not enough, for cities can be cold and heartless places, where people don't care about each other. And it wasn't just Cardiff. It could have been Birmingham, or Glasgow, or Leeds, or Carlisle… It could have been _any_ city; they're all the same…

"I mean, think back to the reception. Isn't a wedding reception meant to be a celebration of _love_? And what better way to celebrate that than to dance? Yet every time I even _thought_ about walking onto the dance floor with you, so many people gave us filthy looks. As if we weren't allowed to even _think_ of showing people that we're in love, or might actually care about each other!"

"Sirius…" his partner tried.

"I mean, is that such a crime?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as a few small tears snaked their way down the side of his face. "All I wanted to do was dance. Just…to…_dance_…" he sobbed.

"Then why not? Why not dance here? Ourselves, just the two of us." Remus offered.

"How!" Sirius spat out bitterly. "How can we dance with no music? We haven't got any bloody music! We haven't even got a fucking _stereo_!"

"We _could_ make our own, Siri. After all, they say that love can make its own music…" said the werewolf quietly, extending his hand and nodding towards the middle of their tiny room. "May I have this dance, Mr Black?" Sirius looked at him. Remus, ever the realist but for some reason never failed to look for the silver lining to every dark cloud, never ceased to amaze him, and he found himself drying his eyes and whispering

"Why, Mr Lupin, I would be honoured."

And the couple wrapped their arms around each others' waists, gyrating in a slow waltz as Remus, so as to give themselves a musical accompaniment to dance to, began to sing the first thing that came into his head.

"Sous le dôme épais où le blanc jasmin, à la rose s'assemble; sur la rive en fleurs riant au matin, viens, descendens ensemble. Doucement glissons de son flot charmant, suivons le courant fuyant, dans l'onde frémissante. d'Une main nonchalante viens, gagnons le bord, où la source dort et l'oiseau, l'oiseau chante. Sous le dôme épais où le blanc jasmin; ah! descendons ensemble!"

"What _was_ that?" Sirius asked, as their dance came to a conclusion with Remus's song.

"Er… French, I think."

"Seriously, Remus!" What _was_ that?"

"To be honest with you, I don't know. I think it's from an opera or something, but don't quote me. All I know is that I heard it once and fell in love with it."

"What does it mean?" Sirius asked, leaning in and kissing Remus.

"I don't know, love. I'm not even sure that I _want_ to know, though. I think that to solve its mystery would in some way spoil it. It's just too beautiful. I mean, to know what it actually _meant_ would break its spell, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, I would," Sirius whispered, holding his boyfriend even tighter. Yes, Remus never ceased to amaze him, the way that he could make him feel so calm and tingly with just a few well-chosen words when he was feeling so low or angry. "Remus?"

"Yes?" Sirius looked up at his lover and put on his best puppy-dog eyes act.

"Can I still come to bed with you tonight?"

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For those of you who don't think that knowing what Remus's song was or meant would spoil its magic, or are now intrigued, it was "Sous le Dôme Épais" ("The Flower Duet) from Leo Délibes's opera, "Lamke", and here is an English translation: 

"Under a dome of white jasmine, with the roses entwined together; on a riverbank covered with flowers laughing in the morning, calling us together. Gently floating on the river's current, on the shining waves. One hand reaches, reaches for the riverbank, where the spring sleeps and the birds, the birds sing. Under a dome of white jasmine; ah! calling us together!"


End file.
